


Ineffable Therapeutics

by Mraowface, Valvopus



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is no better, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Edit never, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Footnotes even Pratchett would find excessive, Footnotes: the next battleground, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mindfulness schmindfulness, Nice and accurate referencing, POV Outsider, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Therapy, Write drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mraowface/pseuds/Mraowface, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valvopus/pseuds/Valvopus
Summary: Steve wasn't sure why this couple had come to him, he just knew they were the strangest pairing he'd ever seen.Still, what could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 135





	Ineffable Therapeutics

**Author's Note:**

> The collaboration literally nobody asked for...

Steve was getting mixed first impressions from the couple sat opposite him. They didn’t seem to belong together at all. Maybe that was why they hadn’t stopped bickering since the waiting room. Steve wasn’t sure what it was, but he could usually tell the ones that were too far gone for therapy to have any chance to help. Frankly, in this case he wasn’t entirely sure how they had managed to last from making the initial phone call to the appointment. One of them had even shown up late, which was usually a bad sign.

“Stop slurping your coffee like that!”

“Like what?”

“You _know_.”

“Do not.”

It went on like that for some minutes. Did they even realise he was in the room? It was probably a good thing they had booked a double session. And that he charged extra for the more obviously lucrative types.

Eventually Steve snapped and decided to get started with a subtle “Ahem.” When that had no effect, he continued in a strained voice. “What brings you to couple’s therapy today?” As if he couldn’t tell.

“Well,” started the shorter blond one. Mr _Aziraphale_. “We seem to have a few ‘communication problems.’” Steve felt the inverted commas slot into place.

“We thought it would be funny,” chimed in the other one with a cheery grin, a more probable Mr Crowley. He hadn’t taken off his sunglasses since coming inside and seemed to be more concerned with getting as close as possible to lying down in his chair than saving his relationship.

“Shut _up_ , dear.”

“I’m _communicating!_ ”

“We are here with a _professional_ , so we can _work on our problems!_ ”

“That’s right,” Steve interjected quickly, unsure he would get another opportunity before they resumed bickering. “Have either of you considered that maybe you need to sit down and _really listen_ to each other’s voices?”

“What do you think I’ve spent the last 6,000 years doing?” said Mr Crowley. A clear tendency to exaggerate there.

“Oh yes, always the martyr. What about all the times _I’ve_ listened to _you_ in your drunken state wittering on about whales and ducks?”

So it sounded like alcohol was an issue for the pair. Classic.

“Would either of you consider that alcohol is a problem in your relationship?”

“Nope!”

“Absolutely not.”

Mr Aziraphale smiled politely.

“We’re responsible drinkers.” Steve flipped through the sheets he had to hand. The alcohol one didn’t appear to be there, which was _odd_. He looked up to see Mr Crowley smirking at him, at least he wouldn’t need to wait for a break in the argument to get things back on track.

“How much _would_ you say you both drink in a regular week?”

“Bottles, or crates?”

Oh dear. It seemed that Mr _Crowley_ at least had a considerable drinking problem. Mr Aziraphale only sighed in response. The poor man was clearly at the end of his tether. Steve didn’t like to take sides, but it was clear in this case that Mr Aziraphale had been suffering (although perhaps not in silence) for some time. His notes indicated he was the one that had made the appointment, and managed to arrive on time - unlike his partner.

“Mr Aziraphale, how do _you_ feel about your partner’s drinking?”

“I… I think he drinks to a reasonable extent.” The poor man was clearly used to papering over the cracks in their relationship; denying their problems must have almost been a reflex. No wonder he denied there was an issue.

“And Mr Crowley?” No response. Was he _asleep_ behind those glasses?!

“ _Dearest_ ,” hissed Mr Aziraphale, giving him a not so gentle shove. Mr Crowley shuffled in his seat, mostly back to the almost horizontal lounge he had achieved pre-shove,1

“Sorry Angel, was bored.” Steve tried not to raise his eyebrows at the endearment, he was used to it of course. People always pulled out the loving words when they felt backed into a corner, trying to appeal to their partner not to reveal the extent of whatever issue had been dug up. It was just unusual that it suited Mr Aziraphale so well. Sure, _Angel_ was fairly generic, but between the looks and what Steve had so far gleaned of the man’s personality he may as well have been one.

“Crowley, this poor man has taken time out of his day to help with our problems, you promised to join in.” It was impossible for Steve to actually see Mr Crowley’s eyes roll behind his glasses, and yet.

“I think you should get on with the session.”

Steve jotted down a few notes. Sometimes it was best to stay silent, and let the patients speak for themselves.

***

Seventeen minutes later, Steve realised his mistake.

“I am _not_ still hung up on bloody Oscar!”

“You keep his letters tied up with ribbon! _Green_ ribbon!”

“ _And?!_ ”

Wow. These two were without a doubt the most dysfunctional couple he’d seen in years.2

Steve drew a calming breath. It was not very calming. “So… have you been having these issues for _long_ , Mr Crowley?”

It was Mr Aziraphale who answered. “ _What_ do you mean?” Strange, he sounded very authoritative all of a sudden. Almost _menacing_. Steve took a breath and glanced down at his notes: they were getting long.

“Well, the drinking, chasing customers out of your shop, driving too quickly, stealing marine life, and what sounds like an unhealthy level of jealousy over Mr Aziraphale’s previous Ipartners for a start,”3

“Oh, well,” Mr Aziraphale smiled fondly at his partner, “he can’t help all that, it’s his nature.”

“S’right. I’m a demon.” Mr Crowley flashed a grin that included far too much canine.

Mr Aziraphale reached out and took Mr Crowley by the hand. “Isn’t he _wonderful?_ ” Mr Crowley batted his eyelashes, Steve couldn’t see them of course but somehow the effect was the same. Almost mocking his partner’s praise. Steve took another not-so-calming breath. At least he could write this case up, get it published. The journal of Psychosomatic Research had that piece on interpersonal emotions and pain a few months back.4 Hell, another few sessions and he’d have enough material for a book, maybe even two. He could do book tours. Maybe a television spot or two.

“And so, we’re really _very_ happy,” Mr Aziraphale concluded. _Shit_. He wasn’t supposed to zone out on his clients like that. Steve jerked his mind back to the matter at hand. At this rate, the book would really write itself.

“Mr Crowley… is there anything you’d like to share about your relationship with Mr Aziraphale?”

“He’s perfect.”

“Surely there’s more to it than that, Mr Crowley?”

“Look at him. He’s bloody perfect! He’s an _angel_.”5

More fond smiling from Mr Aziraphale. Steve turned to a new sheet of paper, he wasn’t going to fix this couple any time soon, he may as well get a comprehensive view of how they got to this point. For therapeutic reasons, obviously.

“Maybe we could go over how you met.” Mr Aziraphale simply beamed at him.

“It was in a rather lovely garden, I was _technically_ on apple tree duty.” Steve started writing, trying to jot down the somewhat unnecessary detail Mr Azirapaehl6 seemed determined to include.

“Anyway, I broke in, he gave away his flaming sword,7 some people died. It’s a long story.”

“Really dear, it loses all the romance when you tell it.” Mr Crowley sighed in response before giving a sweeping gesture for Mr Aziraphale to continue.

“He once saved me from some people who were rather keen to cut my head off.” Steve gave up on his handwriting, there was no way that this wouldn’t make it into at least a talk show. Jeremy Kyle had been cancelled, he could always fill that gap in the market.

“Don’t forget the Nazis.”

“Oh my dear, how _could_ I? You were simply _marvelous!_ ” What Mr Crowley had been marvelous at was not forthcoming. And _Nazis?_

Mr Aziraphale continued instead. “And so, well… we both got fired rather suddenly from our jobs. Which was _absolutely_ the _best_ thing that could have happened to us.”

“And now we’re together.” Mr Aziraphale turned the full force of his beaming smile to Mr Crowley who returned it weakly before pulling a hipflask from who knows where - those jeans were skintight8 \- and jauntily took a swig.

“ _Ahem_.” Mr Aziraphale looked less than impressed. At last he was beginning to challenge his partner about his behaviour.

“Sorry, Angel.” He poured a hefty slug into Mr Aziraphale’s tea.

“ _Thank_ you.” They clinked mug to hipflask, and both sipped at their drinks. Steve cleared his throat.  
  


“Do you both feel it’s responsible to be drinking alcohol in the middle of a therapy session?” The pair looked at each other ambivalently before Mr Crowley glanced across at him.

“You want some?”

“No! Mr Crowley, this is _not_ acceptable behaviour!”

“Would you _kindly_ not raise your voice to my partner?” Mr Aziraphale’s eyes were shooting daggers, or possibly claymores.

Jesus _Christ_ , this pair was difficult. Did they _realise_ how codependent they were? Steve was beginning to question if a journal article, two book deals and a talk show gig was worth it. He couldn’t deal with Mr Aziraphale’s enabling until Mr Crowley admitted there were issues9,10 which was beginning to seem impossible with the former invariably leaping to his defense at any perceived criticism. He should probably offer them individual therapy but the idea of being alone in a small room with Mr Crowley for any length of time was unnerving on some primal level. The smile he gave when Steve had flinched at Mr Aziraphale’s threat was almost predatory.

“My apologies, I just hope you can see how requiring alcohol to get through an afternoon therapy session might hint at a larger problem.”

“You should try it. Might fix _your_ personal problems too.”

“Really dear, he’s trying his best! You’re doing _very well_ , please continue. Really _top notch_ therapy.”

Somehow, Steve did not feel reassured. All those years of training were just draining from his mind. And did Mr Crowley have to keep _smirking_ at him like that? It was like he _knew_. Mindfulness. He should remember his mindfulness. That always helped him get through.11

“Perhaps we could do a calming group exercise?”

“Oh _yes!_ That sounds simply _delightful_.”

“I led a group a few years ago,” Steve found himself rambling as he shuffled notes and worksheets, “we had a session on mindfully eating an orange. I found people there really got a lot out of the experience.”

“Well that sounds lovely.”

“You just want something to nibble on.”

“I do not! Really Crowley, I go to France just _once_ and you bring it up _every single time_ …”

“If you wanted something to stick down your throat I would have bought you another éclair.” Mr Aziraphale turned a delicate shade of pink.12

“I was eating it in a perfectly normal manner!” Mr Aziraphale’s voice rang slightly higher. Mr Crowley pulled a truly obscene gesture, apparently mimicking Mr Aziraphale’s éclair-eating technique. Steve dragged his eyes away, he’d been far more interested in that piece of theatre13 than was appropriate.

“Nobody else has ever complained about how I eat.”

“That wasn’t a complaint. It was _art_.14”

“Well. I feel a _lot_ calmer now. Thank you _ever so much_ ,” Mr Aziraphale enthused.

“That wasn’t the exercise!” Steve almost shrieked. What _was_ it with this couple? It must be Mr Crowley. Something about him raised the hackles on a person...

“I dunno, his throat muscles got a workout afterwards.”

“Crowley!”

“What? He’s heard it before, it’s his job. Haven’t you?”

“That’s,” Steve’s brain failed to supply the words to finish that sentence. “Obviously every couples’ needs are different.”

Mr Crowley slurped at his coffee, which was somehow still steaming hot. “Your needs getting met ok, Steve?”

“ _Mr Crowley!_ ” Steve glanced to Mr Aziraphale ,15 who seemed wholly unperturbed by his partner’s question, and was once more gazing fondly at Mr Crowley’s sunglasses. By some miracle, Steve’s watch beeped the hour.

“Okay gentlemen, obviously we still have quite a lot of ground to cover but I feel we have made a good start.16 I would suggest we meet again in two weeks time and discuss some of the points raised in more detail.” This was good,17 he sounded professional. Just get them out the office, out of the _building_ , and he could relax again.

“Oh I hardly think that will be necessary my dear fellow.” Mr Aziraphale sounded almost chipper.

“We’re cured, right Angel?”

“Absolutely, my dear.”

“Right… Well, is there18 anything else you hoped to get from today’s session?”

“Oh, it’s _so_ nice of you to ask. Really I do think you’ve done an _excellent_ job. I wouldn’t change a thing!” Was Mr Aziraphale being patronising, or genuine? It was impossible to tell. Just get through the next few minutes, and _get rid of them_. You’re a man, Steve, and you can do this.

“Mr Crowley?”

“I’m just here because someone got it in his head that it would be a good idea.”

“So you don’t feel the relationship has any weak points.”

“I’d marry him tomorrow.” He turned fully to face Mr Aziraphale. “Would you?”

“Crowley! You can’t ask me to marry you in a therapy session!” Steve breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing this couple needed was the added stress of a wedding, or comt to think of it, the added difficulty of recognising a lost cause after said wedding. Mr Aziraphale straightened his jacket, “We can go to the Ritz for dinner. Ask me there. _Properly_.”

“That _was_ proper, _Angel!_ ”

“You will propose to me at the _Ritz_ , Crowley! But… You can show me the ring now, if you like?”

“I’m sorry, do you think this is wise?” Steve interjected. The pair turned on him; he had the sudden feeling of being very small and, with a raised eyebrow from Mr Crowley, very squashable.

“You needn’t come to the wedding, dear, if you disapprove.” Mr Aziraphale sounded almost condescending. But he’d seemed so _nice_ … Steve just couldn’t figure out this dynamic.

At this point, Mr Crowley brought out the ring, in a flash of diamonds. Mr Aziraphale promptly fell into gushing effusions.

“Oh Crowley,” - why did they always refer to each other by their surnames, wondered Steve, desperate to get _any_ kind of a handle on the situation - “It’s _beautiful!_ Ask me at the Ritz. They’ve got the most exquisite meringues, the new chef is simply a _marvel…_ ”

“Really Angel? I ask you to marry me and you’re thinking about dessssert?” Steve felt the hairs on his arms shoot up, humans did not hiss like that. Which was ridiculous. He had just let Mr Crowley get under his skin. Anyone could stretch out that sound.

“Make me think about something else then. Something _sweet_.”

And suddenly the pair were kissing. Well, they were nearly _swallowing_ each other. Why did Steve suddenly have the mental image of a snake unhinging its jaw? Not that Mr Aziraphale was any better. And the _noises_. Dear _God_ , would he ever stop hearing the noises?19 That seemingly innocent man, so angelic, was suddenly making sounds more worthy of a top-rated porn star. Mr Crowley was _whimpering_. Was that odd? That seemed odd.

Could they _please_ just get out of his office?

_Why_ couldn’t they get out of his office? Didn’t they want some _privacy?_ It wasn’t as if the world was ending…

Finally, the pair broke apart.

“Well, thank you for a _lovely_ therapy session. I’m sure you’ll have a _wonderful_ day.”

“He won’t.”

“A mildly pleasant day then.”

Mr Crowley snorted.

At last, they were gone. With a heaving sigh of relief, Steve reached for the whisky bottle in his bottom drawer. Wait, had that been in there this morning? Good vintage though.20

1 Stop making me correct your commas into full stops! - _Mraowface_

_Stop going back over bits and adding new footnotes, it’s going to get confusing for people -V_

It’s only me and you that matter - _M_

_Well I’m sure people will be thrilled to read that_ \- Valvopus

The truth hurts - _Mraowface_

2 Not like me and you, Valvopus <3 - _Mraowface_

_We are not a couple._ \- Valvopus

But we’re engaged! - _Mraowface_

_That’s just what you keep telling everyone! -_ Valvopus

3 _Again_ , Valvopus? Learn to punctuate! - _Mraowface_

_Oh fuck off and get back to writing. Grammar is for sober people -_ Valvopus

4 Landa, A., Fallon, B.A., Wang, Z., Duan, Y., Liu, F., Wager, T.D., Ochsner, K. and Peterson, B.S., 2020. When it hurts even more: The neural dynamics of pain and interpersonal emotions. _Journal of Psychosomatic Research_ , _128_ , p.109881. _Don’t bother it’s bollocks._ \- Valvopus.

5 Just like you, Valvopus… - _Mraowface_

_I have cut up more than one dead body, you don’t want to be added to the list -_ Valvopus

I love it when you talk dirty with me - _Mraowface_

_I will literally bury you somewhere they won’t find. -_ Valvopus

6 Spelling, Valvopus! - _Mraowface_

_That wasn’t even me! That’s you enjoying too much absinthe -_ Valvopus

Well, you shouldn’t have left me alone with a bottle of absinthe. Cause > Effect - Mraowface

_I feel it’s unsporting to lie about such things._ \- Valvopus

Ok, _truthfully_ I have _three_ bottles of absinthe, in various states of fullness. But that’s precisely 50% your fault - _Mraowface_

7 Not a euphemism.

_See this is what footnotes are supposed to be_ \- Valvopus

Have some more rum. It’ll loosen you up a little - _Mraowface_

_There isn’t enough in the world to deal with this_ \- Valvopus

Should’ve shacked up with _me_ for lockdown, instead of my ex - _Mraowface_

_YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK -_ Valvopus

No refunds, no exchanges. Deal with it - _Mraowface_

_I feel the boy should go to the person with the absinthe -_ V

Sorry, my rota’s already full - _M_

8 Not that Steve had been looking. That would have been inappropriate, it was just very difficult to look away.

I know how he feels - _Mraowface_

_Step 1: find a fork. Step 2: remove eyeballs. Step 3: Just stop, please._ \- Valvopus

Cute! - _Mraowface_

9 Commas, Valvopus. Use them! - _Mraowface_

_I would, except alas, then you, being literally the only person who checks my writing, wouldn’t have anything, regardless of how minor, to complain about._ \- Valvopus

Touche{ _(é)-_ V} HOW DO FANCY E - _Mraowface._

_Insert special characters 1 minute I’ll whack one in_ \- Valvopus é

10 _HAPPY? -_ V

With you around? Always! - _Mraowface_

_Then I’m glad to be several miles and locked doors away_ \- Valvopus

Together in spirit <3 - _Mraowface_

11 Despite being the go to recommendation of underqualified, underpaid and overeager NHS staff, mindfulness had never helped anyone with issues larger than a lack of good dogs in their life. One of the authors recommends people try solving that issue before resorting to such a lost hope. _It’s the one that isn’t weirdly obsessed with the other. -_ Valvopus

Woof! - _Mraowface_

12 _I PUT A FULL STOP. HAPPY?? -_ Valvopus

I literally just typed that full stop for you. Stop being overdramatic - _Mraowface_

_I was going to type it, I wasn’t finished with the sentence!_ -Valvopus

Hey, it’s ok to need help sometimes! - _Mraowface_

13 Want me to put on a show for you? - _Mraowface_

_I’ve already seen everything -_ Valvopus

I have a generous spirit - _Mraowface_

14 Of course, in being art, it was inherently tasteful. Or at least, the éclair was tasty which was close enough _._

15 I added that comma for a reason, stop fucking with it! - _Mraowface_

_I hadn’t finished the sentence! I hadn’t even finished the phrase! I had a plan and now I need to change it_ \- Valvopus

You snooze, you lose - _Mraowface_

_Fine, you can finish it then -_ Valvopus

That’s what she said - _Mraowface_

_Well, as long as she’s satisfied -_ Valvopus

I think we’ll all be satisfied well enough - Mraowface ;)

_I don’t have anything to add, I just wanted to move the page the footnote was on. -_ Valvopus

16 Steve was lying through his teeth.

17 _Oh, just remembered! I still have your buttplug! The purple one_ \- Valvopus

Which purple one? Be more specific - _Mraowface_

_It vibrated. -_ Valvopus

Huh. Any more specifics? And did you use it? Cos that’s ok if you did! - _Mraowface_

_I did not. You know the one I’m talking about. Literally the only one you lent me. Bit over an inch in diameter? -_ Valvopus

Shape? Name? Other distinguishing features?? - _Mraowface_

_Purple, you wanted disco lights attached_ \- V

OHHHHH was it hollow? - Mraowface

_No hence failure to attach_ \- V

Well at least come back to me with a success story! - _Mraowface_

_I found it! Before it found other silicon friends and melted! -_ Valvopus

YOU’VE BEEN MELTING MY SEX TOYS?? - _Mraowface_

_Of course not. I know how upsetting it is to lose them_ \- Valvopus

A moment of silence for all lost sex toys - _Mraowface_

_And back to the fic -_ Valvopus.

18 _Mraowface fixed it but this read th3r for at least two seconds._ \- Valvopus

I know you’re better than all this pettiness, Valvopus. Can’t we go back to what we used to be? - _Mraowface_

_In the spirit of this fic, I feel we are perfectly splendid as we are. You worryingly obsessed, me trying desperately to wrangle your feelings. -_ Valvopus

Adorable! We truly are perfect together - _Mraowface_

19 Yes. Aged 62, Steve developed tinnitus. After several months of incessant ringing he found himself wishing to just be hearing the noises again.

20 Bunnahabhain 18 Year, 46.3% ABV.. Not that the 50% of authors are biased toward Scottish Whisky. Both agree it’s infinitely superior to American.

**Author's Note:**

> Co-writing fanfiction basically means we're married, right? - _Mraowface_


End file.
